


Preoccupation

by esteefee



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Squidgie's Blow-Job Birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 06:48:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's an education.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preoccupation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squidgie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgie/gifts).



> ...for his [blow-job birthday](http://esteefee.livejournal.com/150717.html)! Come join the fun!

"Seriously—you call that a blow-job?" Rodney said, swiping a quick hand over his forehead to hide the sweat. "Because I'm not sure how to even score that one."

"What? What was wrong with it _this_ time?" John said, his tone a little exasperated. He lifted his head and gave Rodney's leg a squeeze. "It sure sounded like you were enjoying it just fine."

"Those were moans of dismay," Rodney said primly. "There was far too much slobbering, not enough tongue action, and you seemed more than a little, well, preoccupied."

John shot him a dark glance. "Preoccupied."

"But I'm sure," Rodney said hastily, "with a few more concentrated attempts, you'll improve. In fact, I've already seen positive signs of—"

"Preoccupied by what, exactly?" John nudged in close to Rodney's balls and just, well, breathed on them. Dangerously.

"Um." Rodney shivered. His heretofore completely limp dick gave an impossible twitch of interest. 

"Mmmm?" John rubbed a slick thumb just under Rodney's balls and then gave him a slow, sliding lick that straightened the shaft of Rodney's cock like hydraulic magic. 

"Pre-um. Occupied." It was getting hard to think, especially when John's tongue started swirling around like that, or when John's lips nibbled delicately at Rodney's foreskin—"Foreskin!" Rodney shouted.

John lifted his head and frowned.

"You have a thing for my foreskin!"

John's ears turned decidedly pink.

"Don't even try to deny it," Rodney said, pointing an accusing finger at his own dick, and then at the proximity therewith of John's teeth. "You're a nibbler."

John smiled somewhat sheepishly. "You weren't complaining." 

"Was, too."

"Those weren't complaints. And I can prove it," John said and ducked his head again. And then he—with the teeth again, and his tongue started in swirling while this teeth tugged, and it was very, _very_ difficult to complain about John's preoccupation, really. At all.

So Rodney didn't even try.

 

_End._


End file.
